


don't mistake salt for sugar

by nishikiyama



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: F/M, Injury Recovery, Mutual Pining, Secret Crush, bede won't say he's in love because he has no clue what's going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21994885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishikiyama/pseuds/nishikiyama
Summary: Alas, Bede’s final Pokemon had been taken down in the process. Stray Pokeballs lay beside him, nicked and scratched from a hard-fought battle. Loss after loss, the boy continued to suffer one casualty after another. This would not deter him, no, not when there were Wishing Stars to be collected and chairmen to please.He could certainly complain about the pain radiating across his ankle, however.Bede vowed to be Gloria's undoing, and yet, her smile was soon to become his. After all, there was no battling strategy to beat an infatuated heart.
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Yuuri | Gloria
Comments: 9
Kudos: 153





	don't mistake salt for sugar

** CINDERACE… POKEDEX… ENTRY… **

_It's skilled… at b… oth offense and d-_

_Defense, and it gets pumped up when cheered on. But if it starts showboating, it could put itself in a tough spot._

****

Bede’s Pokedex clattered amongst his phone and hard _thunk_ of his body meeting the ground. The Rotom’s voice came out disfigured, variating pitches and tones buzzing through speakers that had surely seen better days. Days in which he hadn’t just taken a hefty blow from a Pokemon twice his size.

That, or Bede had certainly just hit his head a touch too hard.

Hues of white and black strobed in his mind, his composure lost with his thoughts. All the trainer could feel was a searing burn, coiling around his ankles and pulsating the longer he writhed about on the dirt – flecks of mud meeting singed edges of his _oh so charming_ pink coat.

What a pathetic sight, Bede was.

“Bede! You alright?!” Gloria’s voice pierced his ears. Only then did he realise he had since squeezed his eyes shut, clutching at his leg. “Cinderace, return!”

Inhaling deeply, he slowly opened his eyes. Above him, Gloria towered, a nervous hand extended. Her face was ridden with uncertainty – as if she was lost as to how she should expect Bede to react.

“Your _rabbit_ could’ve killed me!” He pushed her hand aside, shifting himself to sit upright against his elbows. A stray ember had ignited, catching onto his pantleg and burning his skin in the process. “Just what do you think will come of having a Pokemon that can’t even control where it strikes?”

Alas, Bede’s final Pokemon had been taken down in the process. Stray Pokeballs lay beside him, nicked and scratched from a hard-fought battle. Loss after loss, the boy continued to suffer one casualty after another. This would not deter him, no, not when there were Wishing Stars to be collected and chairmen to please.

He could certainly complain about the pain radiating across his ankle, however.

“He really gets ahead of himself sometimes, huh?” Gloria frowned, folding her arms. “I’m sure I can get him to apologise… hold tight, I’ll-“

Her words died as quickly as they were born, Bede eager to stand despite knowing it was a fool’s errand. Ankle rolled, burned and rather badly beaten, the trainer was between a rock and a hard place. Resorting to placing the entirety of his body weight unto his only good leg was the best plan he could come up with.

And so, he stood, legs crossed against one another in a futile attempt so to not show his obvious injury. “I’m _fine_. Frankly, I’m almost inclined to laugh,” Bede dusted off his jacket. “Over the idea that you think I desire an apology from a brute.”

His eyes met hers. Whilst Gloria was visibly irritated from his verbal assault, her smile spread into that of a mischievous one. Surely, she had no ill intent. The Galarian had just offered her hand in aid, biting back a wince at the sight of his staggering…

So why? Why did she grin, all of a sudden?

“So you’re alright, huh?” Swiping his Rotomdex from the grass, she set it a few paces away. By her feet, Gloria rested a single boot against the tip of it. The Pokemon inhabiting it was still collecting its bearings – eyes flickering and speakers stuttering. “Come and get your phone, if y’wanna prove it.”

Bede scowled. Gloria did not play nice, not in battle or this psychological game she had sprung against him.

“Or you could refrain from taking my things and be grateful you won?” He huffed, eyes narrowing. “Your success will be short-lived. It’s best to relish in it while you can.”

“Or, maybe, just maybe…” Gloria pressed her foot down harder, puffing her cheeks in defiance. “Yoooooou could accept help for once, y’know?”

Bede was not one to give in. No, he met stubbornness with more force. Had he not been raised through orphanage arguments (that often evolved into physical fist fights) and a penchant for fighting for what was _oh so rightfully his_ , perhaps he would submit. Whether he fought for wishing stars or for the comfort of his ego in the face of his rival… it was unlike Bede to give in.

“Not that I need help.” His ankle beneath layers of clothes radiated an angry red, discoloured with bruising and singed skin. “But, I’ll humour you, Gloria.”

Tentatively stepping forward, his movements did not match the grimace on his face. He had hardly applied any notable pressure, and yet, it ached. Bede knew well in his heart that every excess minute, stalled footstep or bite of the lip was adding tallies to Gloria’s mental scoreboard of ‘Bede Is Actually A Loser Who Can’t Win Battles’.

Well, Gloria was never that harsh. Bede was simply always one to jump to conclusions.

His ankle was most definitely beyond burnt, as indicated by the sharp spikes of pain that shot up his leg. Bede froze briefly, evaluating whether worsening whatever damage had been done was worth the imaginary bragging rights he would award himself.

They most definitely were.

To be seen as strong, a determination unwavering, all of it mattered so much more to Bede than his physical wellbeing. A pat on the head or the applause of a roaring crowd made him feel like no other, a cut amongst the rest, a truly elite-

“Bede? Hey, why are ya standin’ there?” Gloria’s voice broke him from his trance.

As desperately as the trainer tried to will himself to move forward, his body would not relent. His stomach churned from the overwhelming sensation of _unrelenting_ and _unwavering_ pain. The most the boy could muster was a twitch, sweat rolling down his face.

“I… am fine, I just wish to take my time.” Bede bit down on his lip so harshly he swore he would draw blood at this rate. “Stop staring.”

“C’mon, this is getting real silly!” Gloria huffed, marching her way over. Chucking her bag onto the ground, she was quick in retrieving the sleeping bag tucked away in her camping supplies. It was bundled in a bag larger than what Bede thought she could carry. “Sit on this, will you? Stop stuffing about.”

Begrudgingly, Bede took his seat. Pushing his war-torn leg forwards, he found it difficult to evaluate the damage beyond the layers of clothing he piled on. Galarian winters were harsh, and he certainly was prone to becoming cold.

“Are you happy?” He frowned, folding his arms. “Need a picture, even?”

“Oh, hush up, would you?” Gloria retrieved a waterbottle from her backpack, uncapping it in her stride over to Bede. “Let me help you. It’s the least I could do. Take it as a big ‘sorry’ from myself and Cinderace!”

She did not listen to pleas, nor did she care for whatever sense of pride Bede had remaining. Pouring cool water against his ankle, Gloria clicked her tongue in thought. Tentative fingers gently traced over the bulging joint that had since swollen up enough to be noticeable beyond his pantleg.

“Cinderace really did a number on this one, huh?” Gloria mumbled, choking back a snicker. Her laugh was light, soft expression plastered across her face as she crouched by him. Bede sat as still as he could, knuckles white from gripping the sleeping bag as tight as he could. “Only you would try to walk on this bad boy!”

Bede looked away. “Are you here to make comments, or to fix things?”

“A bit of both, really…” Gloria chimed, raising to her feet and retrieving her bag. Potions, bandages and the like spilled out the sides – the internals of it were a catastrophe. Were it not for her compartments keeping an assortment of berries and other perishable items, Bede was certain she would have them squashed.

“Not gonna lie,” She spoke lowly, her fingers hovering above his ankle once more. “This is seriously gonna hurt. You might wanna hold onto something to squeeze. I’d offer you my hand, but I kinda need both of ‘em!”

“Like I would take your hand.” Bede thought his eyes would roll so hard they’d fall out of his head. “Just get on with it, would you? I have things to do.”

Placing a stick against his leg for support, she tied the bandages around it in a last attempt to straighten his ankle. Bede had suffered an array of bruises, cuts and scrapes. A broken bone here and there in earlier days, far worse than this.

“What use would applying bandages to a burn be?” Bede huffed. She was surprisingly gentle. Twinges of pain here and there, but not an excruciating buzz like he had braced for. “Sounds like a good way to get an infection.”

“Mm, you act like I’m some sorta nurse…” Gloria sighed, fingers gentle as they layered the bandages against one another. “But, pretty sure covering it should stop any of the nasty stuff from getting in. Now, hush up for a moment so I can get on with this.”

Anyone would be grateful to receive her help. What, with billboards sporting her names and energy drink labels begging to sponsor Gloria – she had only just begun the gym challenge, and yet, she fought fiercely. The cheers of the crowd radiating throughout the stadium, her electrifying poses as she heaved her Dynamaxed Pokeballs with every muscle in her body…

And yet, despite her ferocity, her touch was so gentle. Tender enough to make Bede wonder if, were he to close his eyes, would he even feel it?

The tightness in his chest rivalled the sensations in his legs. Burns or not, his otherwise unscathed face felt riddled with the remnants of Cinderace’s attacks. He felt hot, his chest ridden with unease… and the thought of not being able to identify whatever emotion plagued his body made Bede _panic_.

This was common. From a staged handshake to posing beside one another in a photo for the newspapers, the feelings would return and always grow stronger. Were he not a champion at tucking said feelings away and swallowing the key, Bede would have since gone well out of his way to avoid her.

“And we’re finished!” She chimed, admiring her work as she sat back. “Done and dusted.”

As much as Bede tried to face of her, his chest constricted all the more. Averting looks would be a cause for suspicion… and so, he stared rather intensely at his leg. Focusing on every independent fibre of the bandage, down to even the fold of the fabric.

“Took you long enough, didn’t it?” Bede spoke softer, gaze fixated on his leg. Despite her best efforts to fix it, he knew well his only way to another major city was by a flying taxi. As the sun began to set and the temperature dropped, the trainer knew it was only a matter of time before the Corviknights went to bed.

“Hold on. I forgot one little thing. Close your eyes, alright?” Gloria looked up at him, hands hovering above his ankle. “And no peeking! If you peek, I’ll take the other ankle out, too!”

Bede winced. He knew her words held weight – Gloria surely did not spare any punches. What else could be done? It had been sanitized, wrapped and supported. Much more would be overkill, unless she intended to draw crude doodles on it like other people their age would.

“What else is there to be done?” Bede huffed. “Aside from giving me my phone back, of course.”

And yet, he found closing his eyes to be far easier than facing her. Bede had read into these feelings online – and in what articles didn’t suggest he was dying of a new illness, claimed these were feelings of love.

Love. What a silly thing. Valentines Day-esque situations, such as holding hands with her or giving his _rival_ the coat off his shoulders… were by no means appealing.

Well. Perhaps they were in a way. In his dreams, they were. In his waking moments, they were fleeting temptations that he bit down in an attempt to further hide his true heart from everyone, including himself.

He felt a faint pressure against his ankle, and another, three to be exact. Going directly up the bandage, stopping as it met the skin. All that he felt beyond there was her breath brushing against him, and-

Wait. Her _breath?_

Bede snapped his eyes open, instinctively withdrawing his leg. “W…What are you doing?!” He barked, cheeks exploding into a bright red. “Are you _kissing_ my ankle?”

He was met with a smile. Winking to boot, Gloria put her hands up in defense as she shifted backwards. “Ya know, my mum always told me that a kiss was the best way to heal things!” Gloria shrugged, looking around in a mock confusion. “Do you see any doctors around? No? Guess you’ve gotta deal with a kiss…”

The fire spreading across his cheeks grew hotter, pulling his coat over his mouth in a futile attempt to cover what he could of his blush. “Well, _I_ never heard that. What a stupid little thing to say!”

“Just ‘cause you never heard of it doesn’t mean it never happened,” Gloria frowned, “I can’t tell you a thing about how Dynamaxing came to be, but it still exists.”

A silence fell between them. She had a point, but Bede would be damned the moment he gave in and admitted he was wrong. Whilst he had no objections on the inside, the tender touch she had and smirk she sported made him feel nothing short of warm. Weren’t they meant to be rivals?

Rivals. His flushed cheeks spoke words louder than whatever his mouth could dare utter, they yelled what Bede choked down into the depths of his being. He was a trainer who spoke through actions, his words sporting that pretentious façade that he was known for.

“…Then hurry up. Be done with your kisses and I will be on my merry way.” Bede sighed, shutting his eyes in a desperate attempt so to not have that heartbeat return again. Were he to face Gloria as she did it, his magenta coat would pale in comparison to his cheeks. “Do me a favour and call a Corviknight taxi.”

“Boo,” Gloria huffed. “To think, I was gonna cook some curry with you… fine, fine. I’ll call you a taxi.”

Bede felt calmed. Not by the rustling of the trees as a breeze swept past, no, but by the song she hummed ever so quietly to herself. There was no method to the madness, her voice squeaked with every high note and every low was hardly deep. It would be an insult to ones ears, had she subjected an audience to it.

Yet, he was thankful to have been granted a small moment of respite from the bickering.

“And done!” Gloria chimed, setting her phone aside. “Should be here in three minutes tops. Pretty close, huh? Let me finish this up for you.”

Opening his eyes ever so slightly, he watched her stride over. Hands clasped together, knuckles white as if she were gripping her fists from an anxious heart. “You ready?”

Gloria leaned over, planting a featherlike kiss against his cheek. Bede had seen her coming, a mile away. Yet, with every nerve in his brain and fibre in his being demanding he move, to roll out the way, he remained.

He did not speak, breathe or shy away from the kiss. Whilst it was a fleeting moment, it had almost felt as if it lasted a decade at the least. His face was scrunched up, but he knew ever so well, this was what he wanted.

Maybe, he could be selfish just this once. To ignore the humdrum in his mind telling him that this was weak, that he was failure for exposing himself.

“Enough, Gloria.” His voice was strained. “Your lips are absolutely freezing.”

“You think they’ll get stuck to your cheek if I keep them there any longer?” She withdrew. Bede had expected her to berate him with such force it would bring a grown man to his knees. How desperate. Accepting a kiss from her! Another challenger!

But as his eyes met sunlight, and a Corviknigt taxi overhead, his ears found no insults. The intrusive thoughts that dared engulf his being were nothing but those insecurities rearing its ugly head once more.

A silent truce to never mention this again was vowed through awkward glances and reddened cheeks.

“Mm, perhaps,” Bede waved his hand to signal the taxi. “You’d be one to talk underwater, so I doubt it would be much of an issue for you.”

The taxi landed, doors opening as the Pokemon readied itself to take off again.

“Then we’ll have to try it next time, alright?” Gloria clasped her hands over his, placing the phone in place between them. “…You know, for science!”

“For science, you say?” He rolled his eyes, holding his hands there perhaps a moment too long. “What an absolute waste of time and resources that would be.”

“Geez, and I thought you out of all people would be down for it.” She forced a sigh. “Because, don’t you kind of work for Macro Cosmos?”

Alas, whilst her touch was welcomed, Bede removed his hands. He had an image to keep up in the face of the public. He murmured a silent prayer that the taxi driver had not seen their moment before, or that the sneaking media had no cameras placed in the bushes.

“If you wish so very much for a rematch,” Bede lifted himself to his feet, staggering as he placed the entirety of his weight on his unharmed ankle. “Then you will get one the moment we meet eyes again.”

“Oh, geez, Bede!” Her squeaky laugh cut through the air. Bede felt his breath hitch at the sight of the brief wink she had slipped in, the oxygen in his throat dying as his rival slyly gestured towards her lower lip. “Never knew you looked into my eyes so much. So, like, a date?”

“That’s preposterous,” He rested his hand against the cab door. “I would rather sprain my other ankle than stare at you. What a damage to my morale that would be!”

Bede flicked his hair with a groan. Flashing a scowl, he retrieved his planner from one of the many pockets littering his jacket. “As for a date, I _will_ be nice and give you the benefit of choice. Either next Thursday or Friday is when I am free.”

“Next Thursday it is!” She nods. “Make sure you wear something beyond that drab old coat, m’kay?”

Bede was the first one to end the conversation, signalled by slamming the taxi door shut and shifting his attention away from Gloria as he became weightless with flight. He had so much to learn on what it meant to tend to a burn and to reanalyse whatever battle strategy Gloria had concocted that didn’t involve mortally wounding him.

“A date to battle. Who registers a day in the week to do something so spontaneous?” Bede stared at his coat. “And, why on Earth would I ever remove my coat…?”

For a moment, Bede felt peace. The feelings in his chest had been extinguished, the view of Galarian fields and rivers were unrivalled—

And he had a date next Thursday. No, not a reserved time of day to fight, but a dinner or a walk by the beach.

“Wait,” His voice grew quiet. “Wait, wait, wait, wait.”

Stumbling out of his seat, Bede jostled at the lock of the door in a dire attempt to turn around. Locked. Which was a blessing in disguise, as a panic-fuelled action like that could have sent him plummeting to his doom.

“Oh, Arceus!” Slumping into his seat, sweat formed on his forehead. He had never been on a date before, more or less one that absolutely had to stay out of the public eye at all costs. “Ugh—!”

He rested his head against the walls of the taxi, irritatedly threading his fingers through stray locks. Yet, he was alone. None to judge him. The faintest of smiles flicked the tips of his lips – and for the first time in awhile, the boy allowed himself a moments joy.

How silly, for those Valentines Day dreams to prophetically come true. Whilst he had a number of things to do – wishing stars, gym challenges, camping and so forth… one thought came to mind.

Just what would he wear, beyond his magenta coat, this coming Thursday?


End file.
